SRT Viper: 13 questions answered

Could you live with the new Viper?

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The 2013 SRT Viper is "all new," but only in the way that McDonald's can create an "all new" hamburger by tweaking the bun and adding a few new toppings.
The resulting sandwich would remain a hamburger, kind of new, kind of old.

For 2013, Chrysler's SRT team wisely decided to evolve, not reinvent, its sports-car icon, taking inspiration from the first-generation Dodge Viper,
launched in 1992. The square front air intake was inspired by the 1996 coupe. The hood vents (six of them on base Vipers, two on the GTS) recall the more
recent 2008 Viper.

The Viper's body panels again hang on a steel frame. The latter is an evolution of the last car's structure, which was itself an evolution of the
original's frame. This time, Chrysler claims a further 30-pound weight savings and a 50 percent increase in torsional rigidity. Helping with stiffness is a
gorgeous extruded aluminum X-brace under the hood. It's also a piece from the past; a similar design has been used on race Vipers.

The exterior styling is, of course, unmistakably Viper-which means the silhouette is all hood, with the passenger compartment shoved back as far as
possible. That leaves room for the largest-displacement engine of any passenger car sold in America. At a Bugatti Veyron-shaming 8.4 liters, the SRT's
venerable V-10 now makes 640 hp, 40 more than before. This monster began life as a truck engine, but five generations later, it's hardly truckish: Maximum
torque occurs at a lofty 5000 rpm, 200 rpm higher than the point at which the original Viper V-10 made its peak horsepower.

The new ten is most potent near its 6400-rpm fuel cut, and the close proximity of its torque and power peaks means that the engine feels a little soft down
low. That peakiness comes despite a clever cam-in-cam system that allows for both pushrods and variable valve timing. Multiple weight-saving measures
(forged Mahle pistons, sodium-filled exhaust valves, and a lighter aluminum flywheel) contribute to a 20 percent reduction in rotational inertia, helping
make the revised engine more willing to rev.

The top gears in the six-speed manual's shift pattern feel dramatically different from those in Vipers of yore. In the arm-wrestling match between
performance and fuel economy, the horsepower team has pulled an advantage: Sixth gear is now short enough to provide useful acceleration at legal highway
speeds.

But in typical Viper style, the new rocket ship's 3.5-second blast to 60 happens in a long first gear, no shift needed. Oh, and speaking of shifts: SRT
says it's considering the idea of an automatic-transmission-equipped Viper, something we consider sacrilegious. Barring any progress in that clearly
sales-driven direction, we'd say yeah, this thing is 100 percent Viper.

The Viper isn't big at all-that's a misconception based on the car's proportions. Amazingly, the SRT is shorter than a Porsche 911. It's also not that
heavy. With a claimed curb weight as little as 3300 pounds, it's effectively the same weight as the partially aluminum Porsche. And the Viper's engine is
two and a half times the displacement of the 911's.

The whole car is also about 100 pounds lighter than the last Viper. The improvement is made possible not only by the frame's drop in weight, but also
through the employment of relatively exotic materials. The Viper's hood, roof, and tailgate are made of carbon fiber. The doors and sills are aluminum, and
the cowl is formed from magnesium.

Chrysler thinks the Viper's freshening means it will suddenly appeal to people who own cars like Ferraris and Lamborghinis. We're not sure about that, but
when we assembled the group of vintage Vipers below, the new car definitely appealed to their owners. Here's what they had to say:

"I like the lines of the new car: more retro, more sexy. They brought the curves back." - Scott Hirko, owns both Gen 2 and 3

There's an embossed image of the famed German track on the rubber mat in the Viper's passenger-door panel. SRT engineers admit that this new Viper was
never tested there-in fact, it's never even been to Germany. In its defense, SRT points out that the previous Viper ACR holds some sort of single-lap track
record at the 'Ring. A snake logo would have been less pretentious, nicht wahr?

Nah, a plane ticket is probably cheaper. And it's certainly less expensive than the speeding ticket you'd likely get in the process. But if you're dead-set
on achieving that speed while still touching the road, the Ford Shelby GT500 is more affordable. Then again, the Viper continues on to 206 mph. The Ford
goes limp at 200.

Could you live with a venomous pet snake? Probably. Would you want to? Climbing aboard a Viper is less challenging than, say, squeezing yourself into a
Lotus Elise, but once you're in, all comfort ends. Chrysler boasts that the Viper's Kevlar-lined seats are made by Sabelt, an Italian supplier to Ferrari.
Sabelt is owned by Brembo, which supplies Ferrari with carbon-ceramic brake discs. The latter are probably no less inflexible and comfortable to sit on
than the Viper's rock-hard thrones.

You don't so much see out of the Viper as make an educated guess as to the location of its four corners. On top of that, the base Viper rides like a
skateboard on gravel. The more expensive GTS model uses two-mode Bilstein DampTronic dampers, and in street mode, they allow a slightly more compliant
ride. Should you make the mistake of pressing the Track button, the shocks automatically fill themselves with Quikrete. Or at least it feels that way.
SRT's development team admits that the mode was developed with no consideration for ride quality whatsoever. It shows.

Then again, it's not like the button says "Sport." And it's not like anyone expects a pillowy ride from a Viper. For the most part, the Viper has morphed
into a real car. It has power windows (the original Viper didn't have windows at all, just plastic-windowed side curtains). It also has keyless start,
satellite radio, a universal garage-door opener, a navigation system, and Chrysler's Uconnect touch-screen multimedia interface. Some of those features are
optional, but they're at least available. So, too, is a four-subwoofer sound system.

Still, those woofers can't come close to drowning out the immensely unsatisfying moan coming from the side-mounted exhausts. Because the new Viper lacks
the exhaust crossover pipes found on some earlier models, each of your ears is treated to the separate, boomy bark of a 4.2-liter, odd-firing
five-cylinder. The sound is even less pleasant in the high-end GTS model, which carries 40 pounds of additional sound deadening. Counterintuitively, the
sound deadening actually makes matters worse; it drowns out both the engine's semimelodic mechanical noise and the exhaust on the other side of
the car. At full song, from across the street, the Viper sounds bad-ass. In the car, especially while cruising, it just sounds bad.

Klaus Busse, Chrysler's head of interior design, is six feet, eight inches tall. Chrysler says he can drive the '13 Viper. What the company doesn't specify
is which tool it used to cut off the car's double-bubble roof so that he could fit inside. A plasma cutter? A reciprocating saw? An H-bomb? Or is that a
hint that a convertible will be coming?

No matter. Indeed, big guys can fit better than before: The seat is now height-adjustable, and thanks to a thinner back, it slides farther rearward. But
the steering wheel doesn't telescope, so the driving position is awkward for tall drivers. Even a sub-six-footer like R&T's Road Test Editor
Robin Warner (above) ends up looking through the top third of the windshield.

11. Can you use the Viper to go shopping with your high-maintenance significant other?

The Viper's cargo capacity is within a cubic foot of a Toyota Camry's, but the compartment is an irregular shape, so it won't hold many grocery bags. Its
shape is better suited to lots of little things, like those cute turquoise Tiffany boxes. That could get expensive, and quickly. So could ripping off the
painfully low front spoiler every time you pull into a shopping center. Proceed with caution.

Hell no, nor should it. Chrysler's best guess is that the new Viper's EPA rating will be 12/19 mpg. That's a few mpg below the last Viper, which scored
13/22. Blame the newly shortened gearing, but the best part is that, without its standard skip-shift feature, the Viper would have rated 9 mpg city! Single
digits! How cool is that?

The skip-shift actuator diverts the shifter to fourth gear when upshifting from first gear between 16 and 19 mph. The biggest problem is that, at 16 mph in
fourth, the big V-10 is turning 750 rpm. In other words, it's at idle, and it doesn't like being asked to accelerate. It's just frustrating enough that
you'll slam the shifter into second, floor the accelerator, and waste gobs of fuel. Which is what God intended anyway: This is a Viper, not a Prius.

You bet your ass it will. But it will at least start gently, drawing a small amount of blood. See, the space between the side of the optional power seat
and the doorsill isn't quite big enough for your finger. Unfortunately, that's where the seat controls are. As the seat moves, your finger will slide along
the razor-sharp edge of the plastic sill trim, cutting you. That's your first warning.

Next, the Viper will break your kneecap with its impossibly heavy clutch. And then, if you think for a second that you can rely on the new stability
control to save you from that monster V-10, you risk taking an excursion across your neighbor's lawn. Any overzealous application of power-and in cold,
rainy conditions, that includes merely looking at the gas pedal-and the steamroller rear tires will slither sideways.

The Viper's stability control is, with some margin, the most liberally programmed system we've experienced. Even fully on, it allows enough wheelspin and
yaw that the driver remains a vital part of the equation. It will stop the car from spinning out, but it's the driver's job to keep the Viper aimed
straight-this is not a stomp-and-hope kind of car. That's not a criticism; it's a perfect match for the Viper, which remains the most gloriously
intimidating car money can buy. Thing is, the old Viper had a big secret: It also scared everyone, but on the track, with sufficient room to play, it
turned into a plush teddy bear.

The new Viper is even better at that same trick. Whereas the last car never really settled down-it varied endlessly, though harmlessly, between understeer
and oversteer-the new Viper is unfailingly neutral. The front and rear do the same dance at the same time, thanks to a wholesale suspension rethink. The
layout is almost identical, except the rear toe link has been moved from behind the axle centerline to in front of it. What has changed is how the
suspension moves and when.

Once a truck in a sports-car shell, the Viper now handles like a proper sports car-it's predictable and manageable. The steering ratio is the same as
before, but revised hydraulics and reduced compliance help it react more quickly to inputs. It's not a particularly communicative system, but like the
steering on any good racing car, it's dependably accurate.

On the track, there's nothing much to criticize. The stock brakes are prone to fade, but that particular problem is easy to solve-get the track pack's
upgraded and unkillable brakes, and you'll be fine.

Once you become used to its enormous speed potential, the Viper simply becomes an extension of you and disappears. But the best part is the car's
personality. Even after a session of ten-tenths lapping, you'll pull out onto a public road and be scared to death again.